Sweet Talking Butterflies
by Skillzys
Summary: The Mack has a plan. One that will hopefully lead to Quinn answering a question Mack has been wanting to ask for a long time now. But she learns before the end of the night that even the best laid plans can go awry. One-Shot. Fifth in the Main Drag 'verse. Quinn/The Mack


**Author's Note:** The fifth in the Main Drag 'verse. Thank you to mykindofparty for reading this over and for suggesting a funny scene later in the fic. I hope all of you readers enjoy!

* * *

Tonight's the night. It's the night The Mack charms the pants off of one Quinn Fabray. Not literally, of course, although she certainly wouldn't complain if it happened. Her thoughts linger on that scenario for a moment longer and a smile starts to tug at the corners of her mouth as she pulls a dark suit out of her closet. She shakes the less-than-pure thoughts from her head and schools her facial features back into an expression that is all business. She has a mission and focus is crucial.

She's not sure when her plan for the night started to form. All she knows is that she had the urge to buy something outside of her normal jeans and leather look. Something nice that still made her look like the badass she knows she is. The sleek, black suit had been exactly what she was looking for and fit nicely into her budget once she cut out the booze and happy grass. The fact that Quinn might like it had nothing to do with her decision, or so she kept telling herself.

Mack lays the suit jacket and pants on her twin bed and goes back to her closet to find a shirt that would work under the jacket. She's laying a white tank-top on the mattress when her phone on the floor lights up with Quinn's name. A smile spreads across Mack's face as she picks it up and reads the text from her—Girlfriend? Date?—from Quinn. They hadn't discussed what they were to each other yet, which is why Mack's plans for the night need to go perfectly. She needs to know if Quinn is over Rachel. She needs to ask if they can finally call themselves girlfriends. It's only been a month since they kissed at the ice cream parlor. She can only hope that's enough time to qualify as more than rebound status. If she waits any longer, Quinn will be at Yale before she can get the chance.

After tapping out a quick response of 'It's a surprise,' to Quinn, Mack looks back at the outfit and pushes her bangs back as she releases a shaky breath. She's been saving up for this night all summer so she keeps telling herself that even if Quinn isn't quite ready yet, it will at least be a nice evening. She shakes her head and drops her hand back down to her side. Thinking shit like 'if' isn't going to give her the courage to ask Quinn. Mack forces the smile from earlier back onto her face as she pulls her work shirt off. It's just a question. She can do this.

* * *

She can't do this, Mack thinks as Quinn slides into the passenger seat and smiles at her. Her eyes flicker to the dark neck of a bottle peeking out from beneath Quinn's seat, but she quickly dismisses the idea that pops into her head. Mack has made enough mistakes with this girl, showing up sopping wet on her doorstep possibly the worst of them. Getting trashed for their date would probably take the cake.

"You're certainly playing the role of dark and mysterious well tonight," Quinn says as they pull out of her driveway.

"Just don't want to ruin the surprise," Mack replies. Quinn says something about hating surprises, but Mack can only smile in response while insecurities buzz in the back of her head.

Maybe she should just tell her where they're going. Her fingers tap against the leather steering wheel. Maybe it isn't the right time to spring this question on her after all. There's a light touch against the top of her arm and Mack glances over to find Quinn's hand there. Or maybe she's freaking out about a question that she already knows the answer to. Back at Sugar's place, Quinn had said she wouldn't let Mack be the rebound girl. They had already gone on a double-date with Brittany and Santana so that had to mean something. It's a reassuring thought.

"Am I underdressed?" Quinn asks, startling Mack from her thoughts. The other girl is eyeing the suit Mack is in, so she gives her a reassuring smile and shakes her head.

"You look perfect."

"And you're biased," Quinn says, but there's a small smile on her face as she says it. She looks over Mack's outfit once more before she says, "You know you don't need to dress up like this to impress me, right?"

Mack scoffs and says, "Yeah, 'cause everything I do is about you, Fabray." Quinn shakes her head and looks out the passenger window. When the car rolls to a stop at a red light, Mack rubs the back of her neck and glances over at Quinn as she asks, "You do like it though, right? I don't look dumb?"

Quinn looks back at the suddenly shy girl sitting next to her. She's still not used to seeing Mack so vulnerable. The only other time she's seen her this way was when she showed up on her doorstep in the middle of a late-night storm, soaked and with nowhere to go.

"You look good," Quinn says, and Mack releases a breath. The light turns green and Quinn rests her hand on Mack's leg as the car pulls forward. She's not sure, but she thinks she sees a hint of red coloring Mack's cheeks. It's too dark in the car for her to be positive, though. Still, Quinn sits back in her seat with a smile on her face, satisfied with the effect she has on the other girl.

Mack spends the rest of the drive trying not to think about the question she really wants to ask Quinn, but she can only tap her fingers on the steering wheel for so long before Quinn watches her with narrowed eyes and asks what's wrong. Each time Quinn asks, Mack shrugs, shakes her head, and changes the subject. Quinn's not dumb. She knows when someone is nervous and Mack isn't great at hiding her nerves to begin with. She eventually gives the other girl a break, however, and lets her tap her fingers against the wheel without question for the next hour until they pass a sign for Columbus.

"I didn't know we were going for a road trip."

"Tired of my company already?" Mack asks with a smile.

"No, but I'm tired of being confused," Quinn says. "You haven't exactly been Ms. Forthcoming tonight."

Mack shakes her head. "You really suck with surprises, Fabray, you know that?" She glances at Quinn, but quickly returns her gaze to the road and sighs. "I just wanted to go somewhere special. Breadstix gets a little old after a while, ya know?"

"Don't let Santana hear you say that," Quinn warns. "And you do know there are other restaurants in Lima, right? We didn't have to go all the way to Columbus."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Quinn! Can't you let me take you somewhere nice for once?" Several seconds of silence follow the outburst before Mack releases a frustrated breath and says, "Lima doesn't offer too many options in the fancy department, okay?"

Quinn raises an eyebrow, slightly skeptical. "And Columbus does?"

"Fancier than the 'Stix," Mack says with a shrug before lowering her hand back to the wheel. "Now if you'll let me, I'm gonna treat you to a night out. I may only look half as good as you, but I'm actually lookin' fancy as shit tonight and I don't wanna waste it."

Quinn can't help but smile as she says, "You sure know how to sweet talk a girl," and slides her hand down to Mack's knee and gently squeezes. Mack takes one hand off the wheel and covers Quinn's hand with her own, which is where it stays until the car pulls into a parking garage.

Mack is pleasantly surprised when they get out of the car and Quinn takes her hand and interlaces their fingers. The surprise continues when the blonde steps closer. She's close enough that Mack can feel the heat coming off her body, mingling with the warm evening air, but she isn't complaining. After a week of working and living with people she'd rather stick in a giant port-a-potty and kick down a mountain, it's nice to be close to someone who doesn't irritate the daylights out of her. Even if that someone makes her stomach flip around in her gut just by looking at her like the way she is now: Eyes sparkling and questioning, but never judging. She flashes a smile at the girl walking beside her and wills the knot in her stomach to loosen as they step out of the parking garage together into the bright lights of downtown Columbus.

* * *

"A steakhouse?" Quinn says as she stares at white lettering on the black awning that reads Michael's Great Steak. Her brow furrows and she looks at her date, who has a grin on her face. "We drove all this way so you could take me to a steakhouse?"

Mack scoffs. "Don't knock it until you've tried it, Fabray. My Pops used to bring Jimmy and me here all the time before he took off. The food always smelled awesome."

"'Smelled awesome'?"

"Well yeah. We couldn't afford to actually eat here. We would just sit across the street and watch people come out with their leftovers," Mack explains as they pass through the door. She takes a moment to speak with the hostess. The woman's face looks like it hurts from smiling all night, but it doesn't falter as she leads Mack and Quinn to a booth Mack had reserved the week before. She hands them both a menu and mentions the specials before returning to the front door to greet the next group of people with her glued-on smile.

Mack knows this joint is expensive as hell (there's a reason she has been saving for a month and keeping away from her favorite kind of joint), but she swears she can feel her wallet shriveling up as her eyes scan the menu. Who in their right mind would pay fifty dollars for a single meal? She looks over the top of her menu at Quinn but quickly drops her eyes back to the menu when she gets caught. When their waiter stops by the table to ask for drink orders, Mack mutters something that sounds like 'water' and shifts her gaze to the table that looks like it cost more than her bed so she doesn't have to see the condescending way their waiter looks at her. She's scratching the wood with her fingernail when she hears Quinn order water, too.

Once the waiter leaves, Mack says, "You didn't have to get water."

"Was I supposed to order the apple martini? I don't exactly have my ID on me."

Mack grumbles in response before scanning the menu again. She settles on the least expensive meal that doesn't involve lettuce just as the waiter comes back with their waters and asks if they're ready to order.

"Can I get the Caesar salad?"

"Fabray, I swear if you don't get something with meat in it, we're leaving right now,"

Quinn glares at her, but she does glance back at the menu to pick something else. "Fine. Make it the filet mignon with the shrimp. Anything to make the carnivore over there happy."

"I'm glad you see it my way," Mack says before giving her order and returning the menus to the waiter.

Once he leaves to place their order, Quinn leans forward so Mack can hear her when she whispers, "What are we doing here?"

"Well, I'm about to be drinking this fancy-pants sparkling water out of this fancy-pants glass in a second," Mack says in a matter-of-fact voice before doing exactly as she said she would. After a long sip, she sets the glass back down and leans back in her chair. It's not as comfortable as the booth in Breadstix, but it will have to do. "Kinda bummed this place doesn't have straws for the drinks. I was gonna blow the wrapper at you."

Quinn shakes her head even as she smiles at the remark. "You're such a goof, you know that?"

"So I've been told," Mack says with a wink. She swishes the water in her glass around and stares at the ice cubes as she figures out how she is going to say what she wants to say next. The ice doesn't offer much help so she decides to wing it. She's shaking as she sets down her glass and reaches for Quinn's hand. Curious eyes glance at their conjoined hands before looking back up at her with a raised eyebrow. "So uh… I kinda wanted to make this night special because I wanted… I wanted to ask if—"

"Quinn!"

The grating voice of the girl Mack has been trying to deny the existence of all summer interrupts her less-than-stellar speech. She's not sure if she's more grateful or annoyed when she looks away from Quinn and finds Rachel Berry standing next to their table, an obnoxious smile on her face as she talks. And to her disappointment, Quinn appears to be hanging on every word.

If they weren't in such a fancy restaurant, Mack wouldn't hesitate to punch Rachel in the face, but the last thing she wants is to get kicked out before she gets the chance to eat. Instead, she settles for pulling her hand away from Quinn's and curling it into a fist beneath the table while she glares at the girl interrupting their date.

"Mack! How have you been?" Rachel asks when she realizes Quinn isn't the only one at the table. "I haven't seen you since The Troubletones did their Lady GaGa cover. I have to admit, it was one of the better performances I have seen."

"First of all, it's The Mack," Mack says. "Secondly, what are you doin' in a steakhouse? I'm pretty sure you made it clear to the entire school that you were a vegan when you tried to guilt Figgins into switching the caf to an all vegetarian menu."

"It wasn't all vegetarian," Rachel huffs. "All I asked for were some vegan options. Is that so much to ask?"

"Is it so much to ask for you to go back to whatever table you were camping out under?"

"Mack!"

"It's _The_ Mack, Quinn," Rachel says. "And I'm here with my dads. We come here to celebrate special occasions. This place actually has a fantastic Caesar salad."

Mack groans and rests her head in her hands. "I'm going to stab you with a fork if you don't stop talking now," she says, but it must come out too muffled for Rachel to hear because she pulls out the empty chair and joins them at their table.

"So how has your summer been, Quinn?" Rachel asks as she scoots the chair closer to the table.

Quinn glances at Mack before she says, "It's definitely been interesting."

"That sounds better than mine. I think I've done enough apartment-hunting to last me a lifetime. I don't have any time to see all the shows I wanted to see and I think every New Yorker I've met has had something against creating new friendships."

"Maybe they just have something against a friendship with you," Mack mutters, but the comment goes by unnoticed by both Rachel and Quinn. She had been hoping to at least get Quinn to shush her or tell her to be nice, but she's too busy nodding along to whatever Rachel is saying to pay attention to any rude quips from Mack.

She sighs and leans back in her chair once more, trying to ignore the way Quinn's eyes seem to linger on Rachel or how she doesn't pull away whenever Rachel touches her hand or arm. But mostly she's trying to ignore how small she feels in comparison to the boisterous girl with big dreams and an unfortunately big voice. She trails her fancy salad fork along the table and tries not to think about how terrible she is at ignoring all of those things.

To Mack's disappointment, Rachel stays even after the food has been brought to the table. She's gone through so many stories about Broadway and New York that Mack's pretty sure she'll hurl if she hears any of those words again. She's got nothing against musicals—West Side Story was actually pretty sweet—but every time Rachel brings up a show or whatever it is she keeps going on and on about, Mack can only see Quinn falling in love with the other girl all over again. When Rachel touches Quinn's shoulder for the third time, Mack decides she's done being polite.

"Berry, I swear if you don't get out of here in two seconds, I'm going to shove this salad fork so far down your throat, you'll be able to taste lettuce from a week ago."

"Mack—"

"Don't 'Mack' me, Quinn," she snaps. "I didn't come here so I could sit around listening to her talk about Broadway and shit. And I definitely didn't come here to watch you fawn over her all night." Mack runs her hands through her bangs and tries to regain some sense of calm, but her nerves have been frayed since she woke up and whatever calm she had in reserve has been used up. "A fucking steakhouse two hours out of Lima and we somehow _still_ end up running into the most irritating vegan I know. I must be the luckiest girl in the world."

"Mack!"

"What?"

"You're making a big deal out of nothing. She's just my friend," Quinn says. It's supposed to be reassuring, but Mack scoffs in response and scoots her chair back from the table.

"Yeah, a friend that you've been paying more attention to than your girlfr—" She cuts herself off and shakes her head before getting to her feet. "You know what, Quinn? Forget it. I don't need this shit." Mack pulls out her wallet and places a fistful of bills on the table. "I hope you enjoy your date with Rachel more than you enjoyed ours." Mack starts for the door, but Quinn grabs her by the hand before she can get too far from the table. "What? Do you want me to pay for dessert, too?"

"You know you're being childish, right?" Quinn says, but Mack scowls and pulls her hand out of Quinn's grip. She heads for the door again and Quinn gets to her feet to follow after her. "If you would just listen to me for one second," she calls after the fleeing girl. Mack shoves past the hostess before she steps outside. Quinn shakes her head and follows after her. "Mack, just stop and listen to me," she says, but the shorter girl keeps walking at a surprisingly fast pace away from Quinn. "Mack!"

Mack finally stops, but she refuses to turn around. "What? What do you want, Quinn?"

"I want you to listen to me," Quinn says in a soft voice despite how much she wants to yell at the stubborn girl. She rests her hand on Mack's arm and runs her fingers along the girl's forearm to loosen the tautness she finds there, but the intimate gesture makes Mack yank her arm from beneath Quinn's hand. "Damn it! Would you stop running away from me and just listen?"

"That's all I've been doing tonight. Listening to Rachel frickin' Berry and watching you drool all over her," Mack snaps. "So screw you, Fabray 'cause I'm done listening."

Quinn's eyes narrow into a glare and she puts her hands on her hips. "Screw me? Screw you! I haven't been drooling over her. You're seeing things that aren't there."

Mack rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. "Ya know, tonight was supposed to be real special. I had it all planned out," she says. She takes a deep breath and tilts her head back to look up at the dark sky. "Whatever. It was a dumb idea anyway." She shakes her head before she digs into her pocket, pulls out the car keys, and tosses them to Quinn, who nearly drops them in surprise. "I think I'm gonna take a cab home tonight."

"Mack—"

"Just… Just take the night to figure out how you really feel, ya know? About Berry?" She wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand before looking at the ground and scuffing the toe of her shoe against the sidewalk. "You were right, Fabray. What you said back at Sugar's place? I don't wanna be some rebound girl." Mack finally turns to face Quinn, but she can't look her in the eye when she says, "So don't lie to me, okay?"

Quinn has never seen Mack look so defeated. She wants to ease the worry built up in the smaller girl, but Mack hasn't been listening to a thing she's said all night. She's been too focused on Rachel crashing their date. So for now, Quinn will do what Mack wants.

"No lying," she says with a weak smile. "I promise."

"You better keep your promises, Fabray," Mack replies with a forced smile of her own before she shoves her hands into her pockets and starts walking down the sidewalk again. She knows of a liquor store in Lima that might be able to help her pass the night so she doesn't have to think about Quinn while she's with Berry.

* * *

When Quinn returns to the table, Rachel is still there flipping through the menu. She lays it flat on the table once Quinn takes a seat next to her and watches as she waves her hand to get the attention of her waiter, who appears to be busy flirting with another staff member. It's not exactly professional in Rachel's opinion. She makes a mental note to send an email to the owner when she gets the chance.

"Quinn, I don't think you'll be getting her attention any time soon," Rachel says. Quinn sighs in response and drops her hand back down to the table. She starts organizing the scattered bills that Mack had thrown on the table. Rachel waits until she finishes before she says, "I didn't realize you were on a date with her." Quinn looks up from the stack of money and raises an eyebrow. Rachel blushes and looks down at her lap. "Okay, so maybe I didn't want to admit you were on a date with her, but in my defense, I didn't think she was your type."

"And what would you know about my type?" Quinn asks. There's an amused smile on her face, but she can't keep the slightly bitter tone out of her voice as she says, "Is my type supposed to be limited to aspiring Broadway stars who refuse to acknowledge my feelings?"

Rachel looks up and locks eyes with Quinn. "That's not really fair."

"No, it really isn't," Quinn agrees. "It isn't fair to you and it isn't fair to me so I'm doing us both a favor," she says before she leans forward. "I'm moving on, Rachel."

The way she says it makes it seem like it has been easy, moving on from the girl she has had such a complicated relationship with since freshman year. From loathing to loving and everything in between, only to have those feelings unreciprocated in the end. It had been years of an emotional rollercoaster that Quinn just barely managed to step off. She isn't about to let herself get dragged back on.

"I admit, I'm a little surprised at your choice," Rachel says, but she places a hand on Quinn's and smiles as she continues with, "but I'm happy for you." Quinn returns the smile before Rachel looks at their joined hands and blushes again. She pulls away and quickly looks over her shoulder, as if she's going to catch Mack behind her, glaring. When she doesn't spot anyone, she looks back at Quinn, who has an amused smile on her face. "Do you think she's going to beat me up for invading your date?"

"I'm sure I can talk her out of it," Quinn says with a smirk. "Just try not to let it happen again, okay? Three is kind of a crowd."

Rachel places her hand over her heart. "I swear, I will not approach you and The Mack if it appears you are in any kind of date-like setting," she says before she gets to her feet. "Now, why don't we go get your waiter's attention so you can get out of here and find Mack?"

"Rachel?"

"Yes?"

"You know we're still going to be friends, right?"

Rachel stares at her for a moment before a bright smile lights up her face and she wraps Quinn in a tight hug. "I'm sorry I couldn't feel the same way," she whispers before she pulls away, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I understand," Quinn says, and she does. She may have been angry when Rachel first chose Finn over her, but time has helped her let go of that anger; time, and Mack. She smiles at the thought of the cocky girl who has somehow wormed her way into Quinn's heart over the summer. Now she just has to get out of this damn steakhouse so she can get back to Lima and find her.

* * *

Mack's not sure how much she has had to drink by the time the taxi makes its final stop at _Scoops n Sprinkle_s, but she does know her body still feels like it's moving even when she's no longer in the taxi. She had racked up quite the fare during her trip back to Lima, but after the third liquor store they stopped at, Mack had stopped caring so much about the amount ticking on the meter in the front seat and more about how fast she could chug a bottle of cheap whiskey. By the time the taxi reached the ice cream parlor, she could barely read the numbers on the meter. She may have given the driver a generous tip before he left, but she's sure he deserved it for putting up with her.

Once the taxi pulls out of the parking lot, Mack staggers across the pavement to the field where her face-painting tent is set up. The palms of her hands are scraped and covered in grass stains by the time she reaches the tent. She's also pretty sure there are holes in the knees of her brand new pants. She should have just gone home, but she's never had Quinn come over, so how would she know where to find her if she went home? The ice cream parlor is the only place she could think of to go that Quinn would look for her. If she looked for her.

Stupid. She's stupid. What does she have to offer that Rachel frickin' Berry doesn't? A criminal record? Mack scowls and takes a seat on the stool she keeps in the tent next to her supply cabinet. She tries not to think about what kind of conversation Quinn may be having with Rachel. Instead, she takes a swig of the bottle of booze she had brought with her from the cab. She's not quite sure what she's drinking anymore, but she doesn't care as long as it keeps her distracted.

It doesn't.

All it manages to do is magnify her surroundings. The face-painting tent is the first place she kissed Quinn. She still remembers everything she felt that night. Relief because she had finally showed Quinn she had feelings for her and joy when Quinn didn't pull away or laugh in her face. She can't feel any of those things now. She's only got her paints and brushes to keep her company. The same paints and brushes she used to draw that stupid lion face on Quinn. She kicks the metal cabinet in front of her. She hisses and grabs her foot when she remembers too late that she isn't wearing her usual pair of sneakers.

"That looked like it hurt."

Mack snaps her head up when she hears Quinn's voice and finds the blonde watching her, a concerned expression on her face. She gets to her feet, but she moves too fast and the alcohol rushes to her head and she falls sideways against the supply cabinet. It isn't long before Quinn is at her side, placing a steadying arm around her. She suggests moving somewhere a little more stable and Mack isn't inclined to disagree so she lets Quinn lead her to one of the picnic tables closer to the ice cream parlor.

"God, you reek," Quinn says once they reach the nearest picnic table. She settles Mack onto the bench before kneeling down and looking over the drunken girl. There's still a glass bottle clutched in her hand. Quinn pries it loose and sets it on the ground. She reaches up and runs her hand over Mack's bangs and the other girl leans into the comforting touch. "How much did you have?" Mack shrugs. "Was that your first bottle?" She isn't surprised when Mack shakes her head. "Mack…"

The other girl responds with something that resembles "I'm sorry," but her words are slurred so it takes Quinn a moment to realize what she said. When she does, she tucks some of Mack's hair behind her ear and moves from the ground to the picnic table.

"I'm sorry, too," Quinn says. "I should have made Rachel leave."

Mack nods in agreement, but the motion upsets her head, which upsets her stomach, and for a moment she's afraid she's going to puke all over Quinn. She manages to hold it back, though. Quinn seems to sense the sick feeling and gently guides Mack's head down to her shoulder so she can rest her head somewhere stable. The two of them sit like that with only the sound of the summer night between them for several minutes. It's comfortable despite how their dinner had ended. Still, Quinn has to break the silence.

"You know, I really wasn't drooling over Rachel tonight." Mack scoffs and Quinn slaps her knee. "Stop it. I wasn't," she assures her. "God, I wish you weren't drunk right now," she says with a sigh. Mack mutters another sorry as she nuzzles Quinn's neck. It tickles and Quinn has to pull away so she doesn't start laughing. "Look, I'll probably have to tell you again tomorrow, so I guess I'll just consider this a practice run." She bites her lip for a second before she says, "When I looked at Rachel tonight, I wasn't thinking about her. Not directly anyway. I was thinking about how strange it was that I no longer get those stupid butterflies around her. I kept waiting for them, but they never came." She pauses before she takes Mack's hand and kisses her knuckles. "I get them around you, Mack."

At first, she thinks Mack has fallen asleep against her shoulder. When she looks down, however, she finds Mack watching her with as much focus as the drunken girl can muster. Then Mack pulls away from her side and nearly falls over without Quinn's support, but she catches herself with her free hand.

"I was gonna… gonna ask you somethin' tonight, ya know? And now s'all screwed up and stuff."

"You can still ask me, you know," Quinn tells her, but Mack shakes her head. "You won't be disappointed."

Mack turns to face her and takes a deep breath. "F'bray, would you do me?" Quinn raises an eyebrow and Mack realizes what she said. "I mean, would you do the girlfriend thing? With me?"

Quinn rolls her eyes, but there's a smile on her face as she guides Mack back to her side. "On second thought, maybe you _should_ wait until you're sober to ask," she says. Mack pouts and Quinn places a quick kiss on her lower lip. "I promise I'll say yes when you ask me."

"You better keep your promises, F'bray," Mack mutters sleepily. "Mmm… do you think Berry's home?"

"Why…?"

"I just wanna tell her somethin'."

"Mack, I already told her you wouldn't beat her up."

"No, no, no. I just have a thing I wanna tell her. Just one little thing. A tiny little thing," Mack says before Quinn presses their lips together to shut her up. When she pulls away, there's a smile on both their faces.

"Fine. But no beating her up."

* * *

Quinn doesn't have a clue what Mack wants with Rachel, but she's pretty sure Mack is in no state to even attempt to pick a fight considering she's falling asleep in the passenger seat. Besides, she had said she only wanted to talk. Quinn can only hope that's really all she wants as they pull into the driveway of the Berry house. Lights are on in the house and all the cars are in the driveway. Quinn shakes Mack's shoulder to wake her up. She looks around, confused about her surroundings, before she realizes they're at Rachel's house.

"Just gonna tell her one little thing," Mack mutters before she grabs her iPod out of the cup holder. She squints against the bright light as she scrolls through her song list. She chuckles to herself when she finally finds what she's looking for. After rolling down the windows and turning up the volume, she hits play.

The sound of ducks quacking breaks the silence of the peaceful night and Quinn claps her hands over her ears to block out the sound. She glares at the girl in the passenger seat, who has a grin on her face. Quinn tries to take the iPod out of Mack's hand, but the other girl is too quick, even in her drunken state. She's not as coordinated as she usually is though, and ends up smacking her head on the window in the process.

"That's what you get," Quinn shouts while Mack is rubbing the side of her head. She tries to turn the volume down while Mack is distracted, but Mack smacks her hand away and turns the volume up even more. "Oh my god, are you twelve? Why do you even have this on there?"

Mack replies by sticking her tongue out and Quinn rolls her eyes before getting out of the car to get away from the obnoxious sound. She shuts her door just as the door to the house opens. Rachel steps out in her pink pajamas, rubbing her eyes.

"Quinn, can you please explain why you're outside my house playing duck calls?"

"You're going to have to ask the DJ over there," Quinn yells back. She glares at the girl in the passenger seat.

Rachel leans sideways so she can get a better look in the car. "Mack, why—"

"It's The Mack," Mack yells back. "And I wanted to tell you a message."

Rachel waits for several seconds, not bothering to let Mack know she can't tell a message. When Mack doesn't say anything, she shouts back, "Well?" Mack responds by turning the volume up as loud as it will go. Dogs start to bark at the sound and the lights of several neighboring houses come on. Rachel covers her ears. "Consider the message received," she shouts, although she's not quite sure what the message she's receiving is supposed to mean.

"You sure you got it?"

"Positive!"

The duck calls cut off and Mack and Rachel spot Quinn holding the AUX cord.

"No. More. Noise," she says as she slides back into the car. "I'm sorry about that, Rachel. It won't happen again."

"I'm glad you two worked things out," Rachel calls back before she tells them goodnight and heads back inside. She has to do her nightly routine all over again, but she finds that she doesn't mind as much as she normally would. She takes a moment to text Finn an 'I love you' before she goes back to bed.

Meanwhile, Quinn is giving Mack the silent treatment. She doesn't care how much the other girl pouts; she is not going to speak to her until they get back to the house. It's easier said than done, but she manages. Barely. When they pull into Quinn's driveway, Mack is snoring in the passenger seat. Cute.

After rousing the other girl awake, Quinn helps her inside. It takes five minutes to get Mack up the stairs. She keeps falling sideways and Quinn has to keep reminding her to be quiet so her mom doesn't catch them. Judy likes Mack enough, but Quinn doesn't think her mom will be happy if she catches her drunk.

Once she finally has Mack up the stairs and sitting on her bed, she disappears from the room. She comes back with cotton balls, Band-Aids, and rubbing alcohol. She had noticed the scrapes on Mack's knees and palms while they were at the ice cream parlor. To her surprise, Mack is still sitting, although she's a little crooked.

"Give me your hands," Quinn orders, and Mack complies. Until Quinn touches her palms with the cotton ball soaked in alcohol, that is.

She jerks her hands away, but sighs and reluctantly moves her hands closer when Quinn glares at her. She bites her lip when the cotton ball hits her raw skin again. Her eyes water at the burning sensation.

"Does that feel better?" Mack shakes her head while she watches Quinn stick several bandages on her palms. "Well it will," Quinn assures her before kissing the bandaged hands. "Now take the pants off so I can get to your knees."

Mack struggles with the button to her pants, but she eventually gets them off. She's about to make a comment about Quinn getting her pants off when a cold and wet cotton ball touches her scraped knee. She bites back a curse and Quinn smirks. Just like with the palms, though, Quinn kisses each knee after she sticks Band-Aids on them before she gets up and goes to her dresser. She pulls out a t-shirt and tosses it at Mack. She takes out some clothes for herself as well and goes to the closet to change.

When she comes back out, Mack is already falling asleep. The shirt is only halfway on, one arm through the sleeve while the other hangs off the edge of the bed. Quinn shakes her head and helps Mack get her other arm through the empty sleeve before she crawls into bed with her. Mack curls up next to her and rests her head on Quinn's chest. Quinn strokes her hair to help her fall asleep and continues to do so even after Mack's soft snores reach her ears.

She wants to be mad at her for getting drunk and for pulling that stunt at Rachel's house, but it's hard to stay angry when Mack's arm finds its way to her stomach and pulls her closer. Besides, Quinn thinks as she starts to fall asleep, it will be punishment enough when Mack starts her car in the morning and duck calls blast from the stereo.

* * *

**Author's Note (2):** See you later, fellow Quack fans!


End file.
